Bound
by Faylette
Summary: [Fran x Balthier] A long forgotten part of Fran's life in the Wood comes back to haunt her. Constructive critcism most welcome.


Well, I haven't written much fanfiction in the past few years, and I definitely haven't submitted any here in that time. I posted this last night on a community on LiveJournal and this morning decided to suck it up and use this account for something.

**As a warning**, this chapter contains a very short, _very_ vague sex scene that I further edited from the original to increase vagueness. Try to skip that paragraph if you are unsure of how you would take the content.

Finally, comments are welcome with open arms. Both compliments and constructive critique are welcome, the latter more so than the former. Please tell me how I can improve and provide better future chapters to you! Many thanks!

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Part I**

The Wood was eerily calm. Even the ever-flowing river seemed to stand still, as if trapped in time. The blanket of leaves remained undisturbed by even the slightest breeze. Given the situation, perhaps this was silent anticipation. Fran decided to savour the plenary peace the forest was experiencing. With her eyes closed, she reclined against a tree and entered a meditative state. Even though there were no sounds to block out, the Viera's mind wandered and found thoughts to break her concentration. Of course, she was still extremely young by Viera standards, and her focus was unseasoned. Even her older sister Jote, who exceeded her in many years, had faulty focus. It would be many years until Fran could block out the world and escape to herself to speak with and fully understand the Wood. She inhaled deeply and tried again.

Her mind quickly wandered again, but instead to physical sound than abstract thought. The sound was a bit distant and it took Fran a moment to discern the cause. A moment passed and she knew that it was a pair of feet rustling through the leaves. Another moment passed and she realised that it was Jote walking briskly towards her. Fran was confused; Jote would most certainly be at their sister's binding. She got to her feet. When Jote finally arrived, she grasped Fran's arm and beckoned her back to where her sister came from.

"Mjrn is unsuitable," said Jote. "Come with me."

Fran followed her, full of questions. "Mjrn is not suitable? Why not?"

"The elder of Asruyt fears she has seen too few years," Jote replied.

"I am not much older; certainly she will be displeased with me as well?"

"You should be acceptable."

They walked along the winding stone paths of Eruyt, being met with long, inquisitive stares from the other villagers. Fran was somewhat unnerved; never before had the others shown such interest in her. She tried to veil the troubling feeling. It was not becoming of her.

Fran was led into an enclave she had rarely come across. This space, reserved for ceremonious matters, was often completely empty. Early this morning, an elaborate white tent had been erected for the binding, and it was now surrounded by Viera. Jote carefully let Fran pass behind the left flap of the tent. It was surprisingly dark inside. Mjrn was already inside, along with the other village's elder, an aged, deathly austere woman. Right down the centre of the tent was an opaque white sheet which would not be removed until the binding was complete. The elder commanded Fran to sit. She kneeled as the elder observed her, sitting in silence.

"She will do."

Mjrn first removed the clip from her sister's hair. She and Jote assisted with the removal of her armour and clothes, following an age-old tradition to prepare her for her presentation. Fran remained as stagnant and composed as possible, moving only when her position hindered them. After several minutes elapsed, there was not a single piece of metal or cloth left on her. Fran shivered a bit. The elder nodded at Jote, who clutched onto Fran's wrist and presented her sister's left hand to the elder.

"Under the law of the Wood," she said sternly, "I offer you to Sion of Asruyt Village to be bound to him, to uphold our traditions and preserve the Viera who abide by the definitive law of the Wood."

"Keep your hand still, sister," Mjrn whispered.

The elder picked up a small wooden box, opened it, and unfolded several layers of embroidered white silk. She placed the box down and withdrew a heavily ornamented dagger. She then took Fran's hand and took a steady grip on the dagger.

"Take this mark as a reminder as your bounden duties. You are to be loyal to Sion, bear the children of Sion, and nurture the children of Sion according to the law of the Wood. With blood spilled, you shall begin your life anew as the lifeblood of our people, forever conscious of and devoted to your obligations."

She deeply sliced the skin of Fran's palm. Fran cringed and restrained herself from crying out. She heard Mjrn gasp quietly, while Jote had no reaction. The elder glanced over at Jote, who responded by pulling back the curtain between them and Sion. The elder spoke again.

"In your first life, you were bound to your mother when your hand was placed in hers. Bind yourself to Sion by placing your hand in his."

Her heart started to pound when she saw a bare hand placed before her. Her bleeding hand inched forward slowly until Jote grabbed her wrist and forced her hand into his. For a moment it felt like her heart had stopped.

"Fran," said the elder, "you are now bound to Sion under the law of the Wood and shall be until the Wood claims you in death. The Wood is joyous in your binding, be joyous also."

Fran was frightened.

* * *

"Well, everything's sorted out, we're docked completely legally," said Balthier, fingering through some recently-acquired documents. "I wouldn't expect any unwanted _interruptions_." 

Fran got up from the co-pilot's seat, clutching the skirt of her dress, and laughed quietly. "As if you're one to pay attention to them."

Balthier tossed the documents on a nearby seat and leaned against the threshold. He had one hand on his side and the other fiddling with the topmost button of his jacket. "Well, my lovely bride, I believe we have some things to attend to."

"Is that so?" she said almost dryly as she strode over to Balthier. "After you developed a burning desire to fly to Bhujerba not ten minutes after we were wed and acted on it without telling me?"

The sky pirate let out a hushed chuckle and ran his hand through his tallow hair. "Hadn't the slightest clue you were so set on staying in Dalmasca. Come on, I'll make it up to you, you'll see."

He motioned her to follow him as he made his way down the corridor to their bedroom. He stood still for a moment in thought, and then patted the very edge of the bed. "Just sit right there," he said. "Come now, don't be shy – I know you're not."

Fran seated herself as directed so that she was barely on the bed. Balthier kneeled down on the floor. The Viera caught on and clutched the edge of her dress, effectively exposing herself as she rested her back on the bed. Balthier tugged at her scanty undergarments playfully. "Glad to see you settled on something prudish for our wedding."

Fran blindly knocked her foot into her partner's side.

Balthier slipped off her unmentionables, carelessly setting them aside. He pried her legs apart and rested his hands on her thighs. Fran noticed the metallic chill of his wedding band against her skin. He teased her and played with her at first, merely grazing with the very tip of his tongue. With his fingers now pressed against her abdomen, he used his thumbs to grant further access to her privy parts. His techniques fluctuated between drawn-out licks, rapid tongue flicks, and attentive delves. Fran's body trembled in euphoric pleasure as she let out quivering gasps and inarticulate cries. His mouth's focus turned completely on a single spot while he utilised his fingers elsewhere. Fran cried out a rapturous moan in the midst of her overwhelming climax, followed by heavy breathing. Balthier let his tongue glide against her once more for good measure.

He stood up and crawled onto the bed to sit beside his fatigued partner, who turned on her side to face him. He delicately stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand. Her left hand met and was placed in his.

"Balthier," she said.

"What is it?"

"I like that you can't be bothered to stay in one place."

He smiled.

"Well, then, it looks like you owe me something. Not to worry, the night is young yet."

Fran was content.

* * *

Fran had awakened from her slumber. It was no longer night, but the morning had not arrived. She was suddenly, inexplicably conscious. She sighed and glanced over at Balthier. He was in a deep sleep, bed sheets messily piled atop him. He was still exhausted from their evening together. Fran let her fingertips brush against his hair. 

_He looks just like—_

Fran pulled her hand back instantaneously, and then watched him cautiously to make sure she did not wake him. She could hear her pulse beating rapidly, almost painfully. How much time had passed since she last said that name, even in thought? So many years, decades even, had gone by with the name ever being recalled, so why now? That name, that person, that part of her life entirely was supposed to be buried forever. But she could remember everything now.

_Sion._


End file.
